


Paper Airplanes

by locococopuff



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-03-21 20:24:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 5,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3704041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/locococopuff/pseuds/locococopuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tao believed that roses were the most beautiful thing in the world as a kid, but something happened that made him believe in paper airplanes more.  Eventually, he starts keeping a red paper airplane around after meeting the student teacher in his art class, Wu Yi Fan</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I edit the story and update the story more on asianfanfics, so I'd prefer you reading there, but I'll put the unedited chapters up here because there aren't too many mistakes. Anyways, I'm not very good at writing fluff, but I shall try because Taoris can be really adorable. ^-^

There was one day that Huang Zitao remembered better than all the rest. It was a sad day as it was filled with leaving and tears, but it was a happy day as it was filled with hugs and paper airplanes. He was six. The day before, his mother had a bit too much to drink as she put on a show for the next door neighbors. The next door neighbors who had a little boy and a little girl of their own, both just about Zitao’s age. 

All Zitao remembers is seeing a rose laying on the table, picking it up, and hearing “awws” as he walked toward the neighbors kids. Those “awws” quickly stopped when he walked past the little girl, smiled, and gave it to the little boy instead. Before he knew it, the neighbors were out the door and his mothers hands were leaving bruises on his arms. 

The front door opened to show his fathers smile disappeared and somehow Zitao got up to his room, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hear the yelling that continued until he had no more tears. He didn’t wake up until he realized that the room was light and his father was crying while playing with his hair. Every second of that day had stuck with him. 

“Daddy,” Zitao whispered with his eyes as tightly shut as he could get them, “Mommy didn’t really fight with you last night, right? You give her roses, and that means that you love each other. It was a bad dream. I’ll wake up any second,” the six year old slowly opened his eyes to show his very broken down man shaking his head.

“Zitao, is um-,” his father hesitated, “Son, why did you give the rose to the neighbors son instead of their daughter. Tell me honestly, I won’t react like your mom.”

So it wasn’t a dream.

“I wanted him to hug me like mommy hugs you when you bring her one. Roses mean you love each other, which is when you like like someone.”

A sigh and a tighter than usual hug followed. “I love you, and I won’t even like like someone who hurts you like that, not even mommy,” six year old Zitao didn’t realize he was crying until his dad used a finger and a smile to brush his tears away, “You know what Taozi, roses don’t mean anything, let’s make something that does.”

That was the morning that Huang Zitao learned how to make a paper airplane.


	2. Chapter 2

34 paper airplanes were made that day by both father and son. Ten years has passed and Zitao has still not been able to bring himself to throwing away any of those lined paper airplanes that his dad helped him make nor the 896 that were made since. His dad loved him, and paper airplanes mean so much more than thorned roses. 

Huang Zitao has given people besides his father paper airplanes, but nobody besides his father would know who gave them or what they meant. The wushu instructor that helped remind him that the words his mother said didn’t necessarily have to be true, he had no clue what the blue paper airplanes meant when he found them laying on the mat. Kim Joonmyeon was really confused when he opened his locker to dozens of little yellow paper airplanes falling out after he saved the chinese boy from some bullies earlier that day. When he felt happy enough to put an orange airplane on each of his friends desks after they decided to give him the nickname of Tao, none of them understood why. 

Tao isn’t ready to see the disgusted look his old neighbors gave him nor the angry look his mother gave him again. Even now, he lives in fear of people finding out his secrets. 

“Class, I beg you to please quiet down,” Tao looked up, distracted by his thoughts to see his tiny art teacher pull in a tall college student who made her look even tinier, “I know it’s your second day, but I wanted to introduce you to your student teacher, umm-.”

The tall man smiled at the lost expression on the lady’s face, “It’s Wu Yifan.”

Whispers erupted all over the room. Zitao heard a couple girls not so casually say a “I think you mean a Wu Yifine” and a couple boys say some hateful words. But the chatter quickly stopped when the teacher shouted, “ENOUGH! Now you can ask some questions since you’ll be seeing him for the rest of the semester, or you could silently start working on sketches for your paintings.”

The student teacher was trying to not laugh at the obvious headache the old lady had before a hand shot straight up. Jongdae, of course, didn’t wait to be called on and just shouted out his question as his arm almost detached from his body. “Your name isn’t korean! Where are you from?”

Tao watched as Yifan brushed his hand through his dyed blonde hair, “Um, yeah, I was born in China.”

Again, Jongdae screamed, but this time he didn’t bother putting his hand up, “Really, man? Where? Taozi, here, was born in Qingdao,” embarrassed by the mention of his name, Tao’s smile dropped and face heated up as he hit his friends arm to make him shut up.

“Well, um, China is sort of a big country with lots of places, I was in fact not born in Qingdao,” Yifan answered before the tiny old lady took back control of the class.  
After about ten minutes of sketching, Zitao thought it’d be safe to get another look at the student teacher. He did not anticipate, however, the chinese man to be staring right at him, he especially did not expect the way that the slight smirk that he made to send uncomfortable butterflies to Tao’s stomach.


	3. Chapter 3

It was the ninth day of the new semester, and Zitao couldn’t bring himself to focus on his hot air balloon acrylic. He had only just finished his sketch even though the majority of the class had started painting the day before. What made matters worse for Tao was that Mr. Wu Yi Fucking Fan and his incredibly distracting eyebrows tended to check in on him more than everyone else because of his slow progress.

Kim Jongdae noted his friend’s reactions to the student teacher.

“Yo Tao,” Jongdae laughed as he waved his hand in front of Tao’s face, “He just checked your sketch like three minutes ago, stop looking after him so longingly.”

That snapped Tao out of his daze as he looked wide-eyed back at his friend, his face getting redder by the second, “WHAT?! N-n-no way that I’m looking at him like that,” The canvas fell to the ground rather loudly, but Zitao lowered his eyes and voice and just barely muttered, “He’s a dude.”

Huang Zitao was many things, but he definitely was not openly gay. Being gay in Korea wasn’t exactly an okay thing. Only his dad, his mom, and the neighbor family that he had forgotten the name of had to know. 

Jongdae just rolled his eyes as Wu Yifan made his way over from the other side of the room, not missing the glare the art teacher sent in the direction of the dropped canvas. 

Tao picked up the canvas and Yifan simple pat his head and commented, “I guess it’s a good thing you didn’t start painting yet, but what made you freak out enough to drop the canvas? You don’t exactly seem the clumsy type.”

Jongdae loved that, “Welllllll, you s-,” he started before getting kicked in the shin by a very unpleased panda, “Fuck man!”

The student teacher’s face looked way too amused at the struggles Tao was going through mentally and Jongdae was going through physically. Yet Huang Zitao couldn’t help but think that liking the older man wasn’t necessarily out of the question.


	4. Chapter 4

There was about 20 minutes of work time in math and Sehun and Jongin interpreted that as 20 minutes to goof off. Tao on the other hand used half the time to attempt some of the homework problems and the other half to cuss himself out for getting answers that made no sense. Sehun seemed to notice and approached Tao after class. 

“Dude, don’t bother with your homework tonight,” he started before snatching Tao’s bag and putting it over his own shoulder, “Suho is having some people over at his house to play video games, but Luhan’s going to be there, and that’s where you come in,” Sehun threw his arm around Tao and sighed, “I need someone to talk me up, and Kai would do the exact opposite.”

Zitao punched his dear friend in the gut before swiping back his backpack, “Luhan is a dude, man. And I might go, just how many people are going to be at Joonmyeon hyung’s, because last time we were going to “play video games at Suho’s” it was a party with too many drunk university idiots for my liking.”

“Who cares if Luhan is a dude, but there are only going to be about two or three other people besides our usual group this time,” Sehun started still rubbing his stomach, “So you coming later?”

“Probably, I’ll meet you there in a couple hours, I wanna go home first.”

After putting some headphones on and taking out a piece of red paper from his bag, the walk home took almost no time. And he had a red paper airplane in his hands. Tao hadn’t made one of those before, and he couldn’t stop running his fingers over it and thinking of the student teacher that made it so hard for him to focus on anything else. Since starting painting, the tall man kept coming over to check on Tao’s progress with one of his incredibly large hands laying on the youngers back. Every time without fail, Tao would think about what it would be like to hold those hands, and of course, some other things crossed the teenagers mind also. 

Of course being the teenager he was, he turned towards the kitchen as soon as he got home, setting the red plane and backpack on the counter. Although once he got closer to the fridge, he saw his dad with an empty bottle of soju at his feet and an almost empty bottle in his hands.

“Oooh, my son is home,” his slurring made the words hardly recognizable and it scared Zitao just a bit, “Just the fucker I was thinking about.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Dad, you’re drunk,” Zitao’s voice was soft as he tried to help his dad up, “Why aren’t you at work?”

“Your mother called,” Tao’s stomach sank, but his father on the other hand started laughing, “She was talking about you.”

“Dad, please, you need to go to bed, I don’t want to hear it,” Tao helped his father up and tried to walk his dad to his bedroom and away from the drinks.

“I don’t even know how many times she used the phrase ‘fucking fag’,” his dad stopped and poked Tao in the chest, “Don’t tell me you have been fucking fags, have you?” 

The laughter was hurting Tao’s ears and he didn’t feel like talking so he simply shook his head hoping the bedroom were closer. Until he saw his dad pick up the paper airplane he made on the walk home. 

“Red, huh? That’s a pretty romantic color. Looks like you have been fucking fags, or your the fag being fucked, I don’t really know how all that works.” Tao knew that his dad didn’t really mean to be offensive, but the words just made him cringe.

“Dad, your room is right here, can I please have that back?” Tao tried to grab the plane, but his dad simply crumpled it up and threw it on the ground before going into his room and slamming the door in his son’s face.

Tao stared at the pathetic piece of crumpled up paper until he shoved it in his pocket before he made it back to the kitchen. This time rather than getting food, he picked up his fathers mess. Sooner than Tao expected, all he had left to pick up was the bottle of soju with a third still left. Looking back and forth between it and his dad’s bedroom door for a couple of seconds, he decided to finish it off before grabbing his phone and starting the walk to Suho’s.

Somehow Zitao made it without screaming at a random person on the street like a little part of him wanted to do. Jongdae opened the door, and Tao must’ve not been very good at hiding his feelings because he turned to Suho and asked, “Where’s your alcohol, it doesn’t really look like Tao is gonna care what you have.”

Tao scoffed before looking around and seeing that one of Suho’s friends from the University happened to be Wu Yi Fucking Fan, and he really wished he hadn’t finished off that soju.


	6. Chapter 6

Tao ditched the idea of more alcohol that Jongdae pitched and had long forgotten the idea of talking up Sehun to Luhan from earlier and only had the idea of Wu Yifan. Without really thinking, Tao headed straight to the other man and sat down on the ground with his back leaning on the elders leg.

“You know Kris?” Suho asked sort of confused by the motion the young boy had made.

“Who the fuck is Kris?” Tao somewhat asked as he carelessly took out the red wad of paper and tried to straighten it out.

Wu Yifan’s free leg kicked out, “That would be your very own art teacher. One that is trying very hard to ignore the smell of alcohol coming off of his student who should definitely not be smelling like that as it is only about 45 minutes after he got out of school.”

Zitao continued trying to get the paper as straight as possible and ignored his mini scolding, “So why do they call you Kris, Mr. Eyebrows?”

“I don’t know, it just stuck, why do you call me Mr. Eyebrows?”

Tao started to make precise folds to create the paper airplane with a smirk on his face as Jongdae came up and handed the Panda a beer and decided to answer the question himself before sipping on one of his own, “It’s because you look like you came directly from the Angry Birds game, man.”

Tao couldn’t help himself from snickering at that comment a bit, but it was probably drowned out by the noise of Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s apparent win over Suho and a guy he hasn’t met. That’s when Tao decided to try and look at everyone who was there. Of course, there was the ever so good looking Kris, an in everybody elses business Jongdae, the group playing lame ass Mario Cart, Kai trying to impress Kyungsoo, Sehun trying to impress Luhan, and a tiny dude sitting on the couch right next to Kris that seems really into watching the stupid video game. 

He chugged the can of beer and kicked Jongdae, trying to get his attention, “I missed the introductions, who are the other two?”

Jongdae seemed lost for a second before understanding, “Oh, okay, so the tiny one who’s chillin right behind you is Xiumin, real name Minseok. And over there, the one who keeps letting Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s team win is Lay, real name Yixing. He’s from someplace in China, can’t remember exactly where.”

Tao nodded and rest his head back on Kris’s leg. All he wanted to do was take a nap, because the setting was perfect. The noise of laughter wasn’t going to end anytime soon with these dorks around, he had a mended paper airplane at his side, and he felt warm from both the alcohol and the fact that he was having skin contact with his much beloved student teacher. And nap he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanting to remind people that I update sooner and edit the chapter on Asianfanfics. My username is lococopuff (It bothers me that there it's missing a co, so please don't bring it up, it's a touchy subject). And the work has the same title.


	7. Chapter 7

When Tao woke up, he refused to open his eyes, he was too comfortable. He knew very well what his dad had said and how much he drank. He also unlike his dad, tends to remember every word he says after drinking, so he felt sort of embarrassed about actually talking to Yifan, let alone using him as a pillow. Slowly, he opened his eyes to see that he had slept a lot longer than just a small nap. 

Tao had been moved to where the kid Xiumin was sitting earlier on the couch next to Kris. His head was in the olders lap. That made him snap up almost instantly, earning a look from Baekhyun, the only one awake. 

“Hyung, what time is it?” Zitao’s look asked a lot more questions, causing Baekhyun to sigh.

“Around 5 am, mostly everybody left, but he,” Baekhyun pointed to a sleeping Chanyeol, “was supposed to be my ride, so,” Baekhyun moved his hand to gesture at the TV playing some drama reruns, “You didn’t miss much, we played some games and ate everything Suho had in his fridge, he on the other hand,” this time Baekhyun just used his chin to point to Kris as his arms were back under the blanket, “He refused to move, except to move you from floor to couch. He sort of sucked, he refused drinking games, video games, and even some of the gossip games I tried to initiate. All he did was mess with that stupid paper airplane you were so focused on for the like five minutes you were awake.”

“He messed with what?” Tao looked to see his paper plane on the armrest of the couch and he lunged for it and held it close to him. Standing up a bit too quickly, he started walking towards the door, “Thanks for the fill in, I won’t distract you from your dramas longer, see ya later.”

The city wasn’t ever silent, but Tao certainly liked the calmness that went along with the darker sky. He put his headphones on and walked home, dreading walking in that door more with every second that passed. At 5:23 am, Tao walked in the door and hesitantly went to sit besides his fully suited father that was sitting on the couch, deep in thought.

“Tao, why weren’t you home yesterday, you didn’t leave a note or anything,” his father looked at him with a pleading look, “Please, you know I get worried.”

Tao smiled sadly and mumbled, “I did come home, you were drinking again.” 

“I see, it must’ve been hard to see your father passed out that early in the day,” Tao’s dad glanced at the clock, stood up, and put his hand on his son’s shoulder, “I should’ve controlled myself, I’ll make you a nice meal tonight and try to seem like a less shitty dad, okay?”

Tao wanted nothing more than to tell his dad what he had told him the previous day, but he decided against it seeing that his dad had to leave for work, and not really feeling like repeating those words. Instead he bit his lip, refusing to cry, faked a smile and nodded as his dad walked out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, okay, so yeah... words.
> 
> Thanks for reading, comments are appreciated, please read my other shit, blah blah blah, you know the drill


	8. Chapter 8

The weekend passed rather quickly as Zitao ignored his phone and father. It was just him, his sketchbook, and two or three chocolate bars. First he drew a picture of Wu Yifan, the student teacher who would smile while showing a new art technique or put a lot of thought into each and every question that was thrown his way. While munching on his chocolate and glancing down at his sketch, he felt the need to turn the page and start again. Next was the Mr. Eyebrows that would lift an eyebrow and smirk when catching Tao’s eye from across the room. 

Tao had to laugh at that one. He knew the look, but he didn’t know he knew the look well enough to recreate it almost exact. It was a fucking sketch, yet he got butterflies in his stomach while thinking about the look. He flopped down on his bed and stared at his ceiling. A couple of DBSK songs later and he chomped another bite off his chocolate before drawing Kris, a guy who was just happy to be observing such an interesting group of people and who was dorkier than he tried to seem. 

Happy with the outcome, Tao was ready to put his sketchbook up for the night and try to get some sleep before school the next day. He failed. 

“Woah bro, I know that you naturally look like a panda, but you look like you didn’t sleep at all,” Jongdae smiled while poking the panda’s face, “Which I know isn’t true because I saw you sleeping cuddled up next to the man of your dreams on Friday.”

Tao tried to cover up the fact that he was blushing with an eyeroll. Jongdae really knew how to push buttons. Luckily he was saved from coming up with a response when the grouchy old lady of an art teacher came in.

While the gorgeous man was shoved behind a cluttered desk doing attendance, she went on and on telling the class that they need to learn to use other mediums and techniques because she was tired of getting half assed sketches and acrylic paintings that “could’ve easily been done by a three year old.”

“... so that’s why I’m going to start having Wu Yifan, an actual decent artist, teach you some different things I’ve seen him do.”

Confidently, Yifan takes out watercolours and some paintbrushes that happened to survive throughout all the years of art classes. He walks up to the front table and starts without even telling the class to gather around. Quickly, all the students grab their stools and try to find a spot where they can get a better look without being in the way, Tao manages to get one of the few seats right in front of the artist. He forgets to listen to the deep voice that occasionally gives words of advice or explains how exactly to move a brush, because what’s forming in front of him is a beautiful rose. Most of the class leaves after about ten minutes to work on something of their own, but Tao continues to watch the brushes continued. After an hour, the entire class shuffles out for lunch, but Tao stays and watches delicate brushstrokes form a background. 

No longer any talking. 

Tao becomes more and more fascinated as, very delicately, a little boy is painted in greys behind the red rose. Only those two are left and lunch is probably over, but the teacher left those two as she had things to do during her plan period. Kris is done painting and he stares at Zitao as he tries to understand why he has a sense of familiarity, when he stares at the drying piece, Kris pulls out a sharpie, smiles, and writes over the beautiful piece.

Huang Zitao, you gave me my first rose. What’s a first I could give you?

The horror Tao had when the sharpie first hit the page quickly turned into shock as he realized the boy in the picture was a six year old him, and the man in front of him was the neighbor boy from so many years back.


	9. Chapter 9

Nothing is a funny concept because strangely enough that’s when you notice everything. There was no painting, no talking, nothing. At the same time it was everything, Tao was trying to read what Kris was saying from his eyes, Kris was obviously trying to do the same, Tao’s heart was louder than ever, Kris’s foot was resting in such a way that his left ankle was touching Tao’s right, his cheeks getting warmer, and Tao could only assume that his face was getting red from embarrassment or purple from the breath he’s been holding in. How was he going to respond? He couldn’t decide if he should ignore it, give his crush the paper plane right now, confess, or just not take a breath until he passed out. 

Instead, he somehow found the voice to ask, “Why’d you write on your painting?”

Zitao could’ve sworn that he heard the older mumble “cute” under his breath, but before he could question, Kris answered, “Because you weren’t listening to a single piece of advice that left my mouth, you were way too focused on the flower, rose boy.”

Tao’s eyes lowered to the ground, “Roses don’t mean anything anymore, not when people abuse their meaning. I have something better now.” Stopping before that last sentence sounded like a good idea, but he just couldn’t help it. Kris already knew his big secret, he’d have someone who he could tell all his other secrets to, too. He wanted nothing more than for someone to understand what all those paper airplanes meant. It made him feel immature, but having anyone feel the same way about something that he felt so strongly about sounded like the best thing that he could’ve ever asked for. 

Biting his lip, Tao slowly sifted through his backpack for the red plane that looks like it’s been through hell and back. Once finding it, he quickly dropped it as the art teacher entered the room with a stack of papers, “So how’d the painting turn o-,” she started until she noticed Tao as he frantically went to flip the painting over, “Huang Zitao, that is not how you should treat somebody’s art, I thought you would understand, I’ve seen your sketches. Besides, why are you still here, class ended ab-,” she didn’t get to finish as the student rudely ran out the door not to be lectured at that particular moment.

Rather than running to class, Zitao ran to the bathroom to splash water on his face because it was definitely overheating. He couldn’t help but think about the past couple weeks. Kris had known, he had known, which could easily mean that everyone else does too, now. At least everyone at Joonnmyeon’s would have to know by now.

After about two minutes of splashing water, Kris walked in, and after he checked to make sure no one else was in the bathroom, he started to talk, “I didn’t mean to scare you off. I just couldn’t not tell you. That little gesture you made a decade ago changed my life.”

“Who all knows?” the voice came out shaky as he was definitely scared out of his mind. It was taking a lot of effort not to start crying. He never wanted to hear his friends say the words to him that his mom has on her few drunk calls. 

Hesitantly, Kris walked closer to Tao and finally decided to throw his arms around the younger to comfort him, and with a soft voice he responded, “Just you, me, my family, and yours,” with each word the hug tightened, but as soon as Tao had really processed that he was being hugged, Kris pulled away, and as much as he wanted to cling on anyways, he decided against it.

The older clears his throat to continue, “If you don’t think of me as a giant creep, which I swear that I’m not, school gets out in about fifteen minutes, and you probably are not going to head to your class,” Tao swears he can see Kris fucking blush, but decides it’s all in his head, “So, um, if you wanted to head out now, I could give you a ride.”

After a deep breath, Tao pulls out his wallet and looks nervously at his long term crush, “Ice cream?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to whoever is reading this. Does anyone else want to go and give an airplane and give Tao a hug right this instant? Everything he is going through right now must be tough and I hope he knows that I just want him to be happy and healthy, lets hope he has a lot of success with whatever he decides.


	10. Chapter 10

Sitting across from each other, Kris was enjoying his vanilla in a dish when Tao slammed down his chocolate cone, “I have no clue what to call you, because I’d like to speak, but do I say ‘Mr. Wu,’ ‘Kris,’ ‘Yifan,’ what?”

A low chuckle escaped the olders mouth, “Not Mr. Wu, but if I recall, you like to call me Mr. Eyebrows.”

Blushing was inevitable, “Not fair. I’ve only said it out loud once, and it was after I had drank a lot.”

“Hmm, you’ve only said it out loud once, how many times have you thought it?”

Tao couldn’t help but give Kris the meanest glare he could while taking a bite of ice cream, “Great, just my luck, you have a flirty voice to go along with your flirty eyebrows,” Tao’s filter must not be working because he continues his gaze lowered and his words mumbled, “You probably get another girl every night,” he started laughing lightly, not understanding why the comment that he himself made hurt so much. He took a bite out of his ice cream cone and looked up at Kris, sitting silently on the other side of the table, ice cream on the table and hurt expression across his face.

“You couldn’t really think of me like that could you?”

Not really knowing how to continue, the younger just shrugged, threw his half eaten ice cream cone in the trash, wiped his hands on his skinny jeans, and grabbed his backpack with a cold smile on his face. Before he could swing his backpack over his shoulder and leave, Kris’s hand pulled him back.

“No. It’s not like that.”

“Fine,” Tao looked around before continuing, “Then boys, it’s not like I’m in a position to judge.”

“Tao, stop,” the grip on Tao’s hand tightened.

“I’m sorry,” Tao had to get out of there, otherwise a tear might escape down his cheek, “it was pretty out of line for me to accuse you of being gay, or joke about you flirting with me. I promise I won’t do it again, I,” a moment of hesitation as Tao rummaged through his mind for the right phrasing, “I respect you.” 

“You don’t have to apologize for accusing me of any of those things, because I, um, because both of them were true,” Tao’s eyes widened as he heard desperation in the older dropped his hand, “I just really really hoped you thought better of me than that.”

This time Tao grabbed Kris’s hand trying to focus his entire mind on not blushing, “I told you, I honestly do respect you.”

“Would it be that much to ask for you to feel something more?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAO!!!!!!!!!!! Although I know that he's never going to see it, I still hope he had a really awesome birthday. It's also Bambam's birthday, I love how my two biases have the same birthday. ^-^   
> But yeah, hope you enjoy my story, please comment, blah blah blah, you know the usual author note shit.


	11. Chapter 11

“Please,” Tao looked at Kris with confusion and a bit of hope in his eyes, “Please explain what that is supposed to mean, exactly.”

“Nevermind, let’s go, I’ll drive you home,” Kris grabbed the younger’s backpack, slung it around his shoulder with one hand, and with the other, he grabbed Tao’s.

The ride back to Tao’s place was, in his opinion, way too short. It took half the ride before he even found the courage to ask Kris a question, “Where did you learn to paint so beautifully like that?”

A soft laugh came from the driver’s seat, “Conceited much? I was just painting you. Not saying that I disagree or something, but you really are a pretty straightforward dude, aren’t you?”

Instantly, Tao’s face heated up and he started to wave his hands about, “No. No. Nonono. I just meant the technique, and like, the way your hands carefully moved about the page, every single mark looked like it was already planned out, yet you never took time to think about where it’d go,” a slight smile started to form as he remembered watching the painting, “I could never be able to paint something exactly how I wanted without a reference like you.”

The car pulled into the younger’s driveway, and before Kris responded, he turned off the car and turned to Tao, making the latter rethink everything he had just said, trying to pinpoint a phrase that would piss off Kris. He drew a blank, and looked back at his crush to see he was looking straight back at Tao. “I can’t paint exactly what I want without a reference either, I wanted to draw you, now, handing me a rose,” The two looked at each other for a second, before Kris shrugged and started the car back up, “Besides, I already told you that what you did changed my life, it’s not too easy to forget.”

Not exactly knowing how to respond, Zitao hopped out of the car and said a quick ‘thanks’ before rushing into his door. His smile seemed unbreakable, not even the note with ‘At the bar. Won’t be back tonight.’ posted on the fridge could damage the high he was on. Within a couple minutes, he decided to call Jongdae to help him decide if he was delusional and Kris was just being a fucking flirt, or if the student teacher was actually acting interested in him. Almost immediately after clicking Chen on his phone, the other answered.

“Yo Taozi, you actually called!! Here I was, thinking that you went and changed your number without telling me.”

Tao shook his head, before realizing that Jongdae couldn’t see, “Nah man. But, umm, I was sort of hoping you could help me figure out something.”

On the other line he could hear a loud laugh, “Finally! Someone has asked me for homework help!”

He couldn’t help but cringe at that, knowing he was going to have to spell everything out for Chen, “Actually, there’s this one person who I have liked for a while, and they said some shit which makes me think they like me too.”

Tao had to hold the phone away from his ear because of his friend’s screaming, “Did you hear that, Baozi?!? My little Tao might get himself a date! I’m so happy for this momentous moment in my child’s life.”

While laughing, Tao responded, “Yah! If anyone’s my parent figure, it’d be Suho, not you dimwit. Besides, if someone is with you right now, I’ll just tell you about him later.” 

Instantly, the youngers eyes opened wide, and he prayed that Chen didn’t catch that, and especially not whoever Baozi was. But by the almost endless silence that followed, he assumed that he had failed.

After the longest five seconds he could remember experiencing, he heard the voice on the other line finally respond, “Him?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooo...  
> yeah, haven't done much with this fic lately.  
> comment if you think i should continue posting.


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